Hellgate Naruto Style ver10
by Fateweaver01
Summary: prelude to posably more like it to include naruto and others review with requests and such to see if i want to continue with this plot line. FATE OUT


I: The Fall of Konohagakure

The young woman closed her eyes. She tried to shut out the world around her. All the blood, the carnage. She took a deep breath and wondered how she got where she was. She was waiting tables at a dirty downtown Konohagakure restaurant only a year ago, and now she is on her knees, surrounded by bodies, covered in blood. She knew some of these people. She had seen them from time to time, on the streets, in shops. She didn't want to look too closely at their faces. She was afraid that she would remember one of their names.

Now they lay in pieces around her, rotten corpses, twisted reflections of the life they once had.

She opened her eyes. A decapitated head stared up at her, flesh half fallen off, curled off of its lips in a permanent sneer. Its eyes never blinked; its mouth never screamed. Not even as she severed it from its body, laying several feet away. She forced back a shudder.

'They were already dead,' she told herself. 'I'm not a murderer...'

Not convinced, She slowly rose from her knees. Her legs were weak, but she took a few careful steps. The floor of the sewer tunnel was still wet and sticky with blood, and she almost slipped. She bent and picked up her gun, now empty, and slipped it into the holster at her waist. Her sword was heavy and its grip was slick, but she didn't drop it. Some of those things could still be around.

She didn't make it far. After a few feet, she fell against a pillar and let herself slide down, down onto the cold tile, and welcomed the darkness that awaited her.

*****

"Til... Tildra Mosk?"

"It's Tildre."

Tildre sighed. She remembered why she hated college. A couple people in the class glanced over at her to see which girl it was that had such an odd name. She ignored them.

"Do you go by Tildre?" the substitute asked. He had a high voice for a middle-aged man, Tildre thought, and a thick beard with a little gray that started to show. He seemed nice enough. She couldn't remember his name, even though he mentioned it just a few minutes before, but she didn't care. She didn't really like him.

"Yes." She propped her head on one hand and stared at the guy in front of her. He was cute, she had decided. Not so attractive she would have to worry about other girls putting their claws on him, but she wouldn't mind if he asked her out. Not like he would. But at least now she had something to stare at to pass the time in class.

The rest of her day dragged on, as they always do. Tildre didn't even know why she was bothering with college, she could never afford a decent university in Konohagakure on the tips she made waitressing at Bone's Restaurant. The sort of people that go to that bloody hole in the wall don't tip worth a bloody damn, Tildre knew. She was not in a good mood today. And she had to work.

Fuck.

She walked up behind Bone's, She pulled her jet black hair back into a ponytail and smoothed down her un-flattering uniform before she stepped through the door to begin another long night.

It was already noisy, and it was only five o'clock. Tildre didn't like that; that meant she would be busy. She sighed and walked through the dining room to the galley so she could catch a few minutes to hide before her boss saw her.

"Happy Halloween Tilly!"

Tildre sighed again. She was hoping the cheerfully obnoxious Wes wasn't working tonight (as he had a habit of annoying her), but her luck didn't work that way. "Don't call me that."

"Why not? It's cute," he replied with his characteristic crooked grin as he nervously smoothed his crimson shock of hair. She nearly blushed, which just annoyed her more. Tildre had the feeling Wes had a crush on her, but she knew he would never admit it. She didn't like him much, anyway. He was never serious.

And he annoyed her too much.

"Just don't," she said sternly and tromped out of the galley to take a table. She was going to have to have a talk with that boy. Taking a deep breath, she went to her section to greet the disgusting old man that was just seated (she hoped he wouldn't try to grope her) with her usually merry sentiment.

"What do you want?"

The old man didn't have a chance to berate her, for as soon as he looked up, it happened.  
Konohagakure exploded. To be more accurate, the entire world exploded. Streets cracked open and pillars of flame, stories high, burst out from underground. Buildings were leveled in seconds as earthquakes, ones more powerful than Konohagakure has ever faced, shook the foundation of the very planet. Millions died in just the first few minutes.

The windows to Bone's shattered from the force of the shock. Tildre's eyes widened as she saw one of the huge pillars of fire erupt from the street outside. The skies appeared to darken almost immediately, and then the power went out. There was chaos, screaming, then something hard hit her head and she passed out.

But the eruptions and earthquakes were just the beginning. They were merely a precursor to the true horror that would flood the streets of Konohagakure and the rest of the world that night—

All Hell broke loose. What news reporters all around the globe could only describe as "demons" emerged from ominous-looking portals and began spreading rampant chaos. The villages were filled with the bodies of innocent citizens. The corpses in the street were lucky. They were the mercy killings. The rest were used in painful, bloody sacrifices by the invaders to open more portals to their homeworld.

Homeworld. Nobody knew what else to call it, and nobody wanted to say what they were truly thinking. That Hell was real, and it was invading.

Within two weeks, the biggest major villages in the Elemental countries had been reduced to embers. There were very few survivors.

Tildre awoke to the faint sounds of distant screams and gunfire. She tried to stand and attempted to comprehend what had just happened. Her head was ringing and it felt like she was going to pass out. She was covered in debris and dust, and it tickled her nose, making her want to sneeze. She dared not though, too scared to make any sounds. She looked around, brushing her hair out of her face. It was wet with blood. But she didn't think about it.

The restaurant was completely still. It appeared as though the patrons had evacuated, but Tildre didn't want to stick around and look for any survivors. She smelled something, maybe blood, she thought, and that made her want to get out of there. Get somewhere safe, as soon as she could. She was amazed she hadn't gone into shock.

Tildre stumbled out the door (now removed from its hinges) and gazed at the destruction around her with unbelieving eyes. Many of Konohagakure's buildings were now hidden from view, having either toppled over from the initial quakes, or were now covered by the darkened sky. The streets were empty. There were no people to be seen in any direction. Carts were overturned in the street, one about to topple into one of the large craters left by the pillars of flame Tildre witnessed earlier. Ash fell like a light snow.

It was difficult to take in, and the shocked waitress still hadn't fully recovered. 'Maybe I have a concussion,' she thought. 'Maybe I'm hallucinating everything.' She didn't really believe herself.

'Mom,' she thought, 'I need to see if Mom's okay…' Tildre, knowing nothing else to do, began walking. 'Definitely a hallucination. Or a dream,' she continued to herself, more confident, putting one foot in front of the other. 'Once I get home, Mom will take care of me, and I'll wake up, and everything will be the way it was. I'm just having a nightmare.'

She made it several feet before she stopped dead in her tracks. She felt it before she saw it, a presence that shook her to her very core. The sensation made her think of an icepick through her heart. She knew 'it' existed, and was real, and she then knew she wasn't dreaming.

Tildre turned. She saw a pair of leathery wings leading to a massive, muscled torso of red skin, covered with a dark, metallic armor engraved with evil-looking fetishes. The demon grinned grotesquely as it eyed the small, young human with its glowing eyes deep-set into its leathery face. Its forehead was tipped with a pair of sharp horns that accentuated its demonic appearance.

Before she could react, before she could unfreeze her legs, the demon was upon her. It brought its wicked claws down in a flash.

*****

Tildre screamed and sat up. She was back in the sewer tunnel, two years later. She pushed her blood-stained hair out of her dirty face and breathed heavily.  
"Welcome back to the living."

Startled, she fell backwards against the pillar, and looked up. She knew that voice.

It was Wes. She couldn't believe it. Tildre thought he was dead ever since that day Konohagakure fell. Only, like everyone who had survived since then, he had changed. His crooked grin was replaced by an unemotional expression and a dullness in his usually cheerful eyes. He hadn't shaved for days. His usually messy bright hair was now darker, and cropped short. He held a large automatic rifle in his hands and wore piecemeal tec-armor, flashing periodically with a blue light, and wet with blood—who's, Tildre didn't know. Twin daggers rest at his hips, and he stood easily, as if he had worn his hunter's gear his whole life. He pushed up his oft-mended glasses and regarded Tildre. Wes leaned over, offering her his hand.

"I've been looking for you."

II: Partnership

Tildre ignored Wes' hand and stood. "I thought you were dead," she muttered as she slipped her blade into the sheath built into her armored leggings.

Wes took particular note of the finely crafted steel, from the thin and lengthy folded blade to the beautifully embroidered hilt and grip. Tildre's left hand rested easily on the pommel, and Wes could tell she could handle it. His eyes moved from her hips to the gory scene behind her, which only confirmed his suspicions.

"No more than you," he replied, raising his grey eyes to meet her own. He glanced the soaked girl in front of him up and down, taking her in. Her hair was still jet black, though now it was matted and drenched with blood and sweat. She wore a typical hunter's jacket and leggings, torn in several places.

There was something off about his eyes, Tildre thought as he looked at her. She became suddenly self-conscious of the fact she was covered from head to toe in crimson. None of it was hers, she decided not to mention.

Overcome with confusion and anger, she took a breath. "What do you mean you've been looking for me? How'd you even know where I was? I've been killing these goddamn monsters for months just trying to stay alive and you show up out of fucking nowhere, after I almost got my flesh eaten off by these things, and you just say 'I've been looking for you' like… like…" Tildre trailed off, too exasperated to finish her angry barrage of questions.

Wes' expression remained unchanged. He averted his peculiar grey eyes and brought a hand up to absently rub the long scar that ran along his jaw. It was the first time Tildre noticed it. It was new, and Tildre felt ashamed. It wasn't easy for anybody to survive in Konohagakure now. Wes hoisted the heavy-looking rifle up to his shoulder as he considered his words carefully.

The confused woman before him caught mild relief in that Wes still spoke deliberately; it reminded her of the young man she worked with at that dirty restaurant a year ago. That world was gone though, replaced by the nightmarish reality they lived in now.

"There's a church about five miles from here," Wes began. The Shizoku have a base there. It's a lot safer than wandering around out here. I'll bring you there."

Tildre shook her head vehemently. "I'm not going anywhere where there's Shizoku. Those pompous sons of bitches… They're the reason we're in this whole situation. You know that."

"That's bullshit. Come with me."

"No," was her reply.

"Why not?"

Because that would mean I'd be wrong, she thought. "They're liars. Their shelters aren't safe," Tildre mumbled as she turned away, reminded of how she obtained the sword at her waist, fingering the hilt.

"Don't worry. There are a lot of us there. You can't seriously be considering staying topside. You'll die," he added.

"I will not! I've done just—Hey what the hell are… let me go!"

Wes grabbed her arm, ignoring her objections, and pulled her towards the stairs leading up to the Konohagakure streets. "I don't care what kind of petty agenda you have against the Shizoku, but I can't leave people out here to die."

"I'll walk myself," Tildre stated proudly, jerking her arm away.

"Good. Here," Wes said, handing her a magazine pulled from his belt. "It's empty, isn't it?"

Tildre fumbled with the gun at her waist and reloaded it, embarrassed.

The duo climbed the stairs silently with Wes leading the way with his rifle.

Tildre's eyes stung as they arrived on the surface. The burning fires underneath many parts of Konohagakure cast ash to the sky, falling to the streets and giving it a permanent layer of grey, creating a city of cold stone. Tildre looked up. The sun hadn't shone in the sky for over a year. She noted some dots, far away, most likely flying demons. She was suddenly glad she decided to go with her emotionless companion.

Wes stood still for a moment, eyes scanning all around him. "It's safe this way," he stated after a moment, turning to his right towards an alley.

Tildre understood then that Wes had optical implants. She had heard of some of the advanced Shizoku technology, and how many in the human resistance, particularly those that used to be in the now-dissolved ANBU, were fond of supplementing their organic parts for more "efficient" ones. Wes still wore his crooked-frame glasses, though. Tildre would ask him about that later.

She found implants disgusting. The few people she had met topside with them had been muscle-bound freaks who only hunted demons for the sake of killing. She wondered how much of the man in front of her was even still a man. It annoyed her. And scared her a little. Even the smallest things from her old reality had changed beyond recognition.

After twisting and turning through several back streets, they emerged from behind the ruined buildings. The long road before them had led directly into uptown Konohagakure, when Konohagakure could still have been considered a village. Now it was just another desolate reminder of the destruction all around them.

Wes turned around sharply, suddenly alert. "Go ahead. The church is three blocks down and on the right." He raised his rifle scope to his eye, dropped down on one knee for stability, and aimed towards the clouded sky.

Tildre squinted up over the collapsed towers in the distance, trying to see what Wes could see with his cybernetic eyes. She glanced over at his rigid stance and stern expression and knew she should take his advice. She nodded slowly. Gripping the hilt of her blade tightly, she began hurriedly down the street.

Wes slowed his breathing, loosened his muscles. He calmed himself, erasing the world around him until there were only two things left. One was his rifle. It was a customized Hechloch design, a rifle capable of pinpointing a target three hundred yards away and using autolock technology to remove any error in aim from the wielder.

But Wes didn't need such frivolities. By request, his engineer friend had removed the autolock chip, given the gun a larger magazine and fully-automatic mode of fire, and added a cartridge with specially-made bullets filled with an acidic compound. On impact, the bullets explode, eating away at the targets' flesh or armor.

Wes exhaled, and held his breath. The only other thing left in the world was the black dot in his scope. It was growing nearer by the second. At first, Wes could see its wings. He waited. Then, its torso, legs, muscular arms. Still, he waited.

Finally, he could make out its head, horns, and glowing eyes.

*****

Tildre ran as fast as her exhausted legs would carry her. She felt the evil around her; there were several creatures nearby. She knew they were watching her, knew they smelt the blood all over her, and knew she was tired. Weak.

Tildre considered herself lucky. She had felt these beings before, and knew what she was up against. She slowed her pace to a halt and stood in the middle of the road. Tildre glanced around with her dark eyes, counting the number of them hiding in the shadows.

Six, seven… eight. She readied herself for battle. Tildre found her balance and unlocked her knees. Her right hand went across to her katana's grip, and held it loosely with her first three fingers. Now she needed patience.

The creatures are called imps by the humans. They could be described as the foot soldiers of Hell's army (as the Shizoku called the invading horde); there are many of them, and they are largely unintelligent. Tildre had encountered them before.

They began to grow impatient with the thirst for female blood and began to chitter between themselves loudly, hoping to unnerve their prey.

Tildre would not allow them the pleasure.

They emerged from the shadows, hoping to rush the weak human and surround her. The imps were maybe a meter tall, humanoid, with thick, stony skin that glowed red from the magma in their bodies. Their heads were spotted with eight, green orbs, giving them a spider-like appearance, with mandibles that dripped down over a mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth.

Tildre stood perfectly still, only moving her head slightly to track the position of the surrounding mob. They ran now, chittering happily, positive their victory was ensured.

With a flash and a sharp tching, the perfectly-sharpened blade was out of it's sheathe and through an imp's throat. It emitted a piercing gurgle before its molten body collapsed into pieces. One.

Tildre let go with one hand and brought the blade behind her in a quick, sweeping turn, cutting through an imp that had leaped towards her and sending its two halves spinning away. She kicked one at her right fiercely, surprising it and knocking it on its back, and brought her sword down, cleaving through the skull of another. Two, three.

Two more came at her from both sides. She faced the one to her right, and drove the blade through its face. The skilled swordswoman pulled it free fiercely, sending out sparks and ash, flipped the katana in her hands and drove it backwards into the chest of the other. Four, five.

She took a few steps, stabbed downwards through the head of the one she knocked prone, and twisted her weapon. It screeched and flailed, then its eyes dimmed to the color of the rest of its brackish body. Six.

The other two remaining imps made no move to engage the deadly human. They instead chittered in their unintelligible language and hopped through a rift that opened behind them. Tildre had seen such gates before. They led directly into Hell, or, what everyone believed was Hell. It shimmered for a moment and disappeared.

Tildre swung her sword down in a quick motion, removing all the ash and dust that remained on the steel. Then she collapsed.

But then she felt something else, something bigger… but she hadn't the strength to stand up. Tildre looked up into the hideous face of a winged demon.

*****

Wes pulled the trigger. He immediately brought the rifle down and turned to follow after Tildre, not needing to see his kill.

But something blocked his way.

"Shit."

A rift had opened directly in front of him, and what came out of it was a hulking beast of a demon, standing twice as high as Wes, with an armored carapace and a deformed face that was nothing but a gaping maw. Wes brought his rifle up, but before he could fire, the demon swung one of its arms lazily.

His rifle was knocked out of his hands and he was thrown several feet by the force of its crushing blow.

Wes rolled as he hit the ground, tumbling up into a crouch. His hands went to the daggers at his side. He pulled them out and held them, reversed, across his body. With a flick of his thumbs, the hunter activated the hidden switches on their hilts. With a slight hum, they let him know they were charged and thirsty.

He examined the brute in front of him, now emitting a bloodthirsty howl in its unearthly voice. His optical implants gave him all the feedback he needed. Heat signature: 3982. Height: 2.4 meters. Armaments: Unknown strength-enhancing melee device. Threat: Moderate. Designation: Minion.

Wes smiled, something he is not prone to do. With a grunt, he heaved himself out of a crouch and into a low run. The minion stomped towards him, raising its meaty fist and aiming to crush his skull with his next blow. Wes ducked to the left, dodging the creature's arm easily, and jumped. Daggers raised, he brought them down simultaneously through the beasts' neck. The knives pulsed, sending waves of electricity through the demon's body, causing it to spurt blood and shake tremulously. Wes kicked off its chest, pulling the weapons free, and landed skillfully in a crouch. The creature fell. Wes breathed out.

"Moderate my ass."

He walked over to pick up his rifle and rushed down the street.

Wes saw Tildre a hundred yards away, staring up at another winged monster, ready to take her head from her shoulders with its wicked looking scythe.

He didn't hesitate. He brought his gun to bear and engaged in rapid-fire at a full run. The demon took a bullet in the arm and growled, turning towards the new threat. Then another in the stomach, and leg, and chest. It howled in pain, faced the skilled hunter, and began to approach him.

Once Wes was sure Tildre was no longer its target, he halted fire and brought the scope up to his eye once again.

A split-second later, the monster's head had burst open.

Wes sighed as he approached Tildre. She had passed out. He slung his rifle onto his back and hoisted the girl, still covered in slick blood. She hung onto her katana tightly, even unconscious.

Once he was positive no more demons were nearby, Wes carried her to the church.

III: Tsurugi

"It is not a weapon. It is a tool, an extension of your arm, even your very soul."

Tildre scoffed to herself. She didn't know what she was doing. Two weeks after the apocalypse, after finding out her home had been demolished and her mother killed, Tildre had spent her time wandering the back alleys and sewers like most of the survivors, looking for food, water, and safety. The elderly man seated before her had saved her life. Tildre had been trapped, surrounded by several dog-like demons, when the mysterious stranger had shown up. His strength belied his age, for he could swing the large sword resting next to him with ease.

Still, she had nowhere else to go. It was safe with her new master, and sticking together was always better. It's just that after the invasion, nobody trusted one another any more. Scavengers were just as likely to kill you as the demons.

They were in a dojo. The old man had offered to teach her to use a sword, to defend herself. Normal weapons weren't as effective against the demons as some of the more archaic weapons, like those the Shizoku use.

Tildre scoffed again. The Shizoku. They came out of nowhere during the night Konohagakure was attacked, October 31st, intercepting the invaders outside Hokage's Tower in central Konohagakure. It was a massacre. Hundreds of Shizoku died there, fighting the demons, in what Tildre called a worthless sacrifice. Nobody knew what to make of them. The newscasts called them "mysterious knights". 'Knights' was a fitting word, considering their glistening armor, swords and shields.

Whispers reached Tildre's ears in the weeks of the aftermath, dubbing them Shizoku, like the knights of old. She always considered those wars nothing more than slaughters in the name of Honor. They were arrested or banished in the beginning of the Shinobi age, reasons which were now assumed to be related to research into these demons. The Shizoku had apparently gone underground, living in secrecy for over 700 years.

Cowardice, Tildre thought. And then they conveniently showed up to battle the demons, and lost. And now the world was paying for it. In reality, the Shizoku sacrificed themselves to make the demons think they'd won, to buy time for civilians and the few Shizoku that remained to regroup, and hopefully find and exploit the demons' weakness. But to most people they were just more worthless casualties.

The sullen girl thought back to her first encounter with the knights. It was right after the attack. The memory of that demon's glowing eyes and razor-sharp blackened nails still brought a shiver up her spine. Tildre had been certain she was going to die in that nightmare, and yet at the last second, she heard a sharp crack.

The demon's hot green blood splashed over her face as its chest exploded. Through the large hole in its torso, she could see the barrel of a thick, round pistol, gripped by an armored hand. Her savior was wearing a full-body suit of gleaming plate, trimmed in gold, polished to a bright sheen, and spattered with various colors of blood. The figure was lean and curvy, obviously a woman, though her face was covered with a helmet. It had a golden relief of a cross in the center, framed on either side with glowing designs. She held a sword in her other hand.

The demon toppled. Tildre gasped as it landed with a thunk inches away, squirting more blood into the air. The female knight turned sharply, ignoring the shocked girl, and dashed towards several similarly-clad companions down the street. They were attempting to intercept another large demon.

Tildre watched as they quickly and skillfully took care of the beast. Realizing she would not be safe on her own, she shook off her fear and stood, running after the knights as fast as her legs would carry her. They felt weak, like they would give way any second, but Tildre didn't have a choice. The knights moved as a unit, almost as if they had one mind, dashing through the Konohagakure streets in perfect formation, downing any enemy that showed itself. Tildre stayed back a safe distance.

After several blocks, they turned into a gated churchyard. They dashed inside. Tildre had trouble keeping up, for the soldiers were surreally fast and seemed to move tirelessly. As she reached the giant gothic double doors, she saw the woman knight place her iron palm against a panel on the altar. It glowed for a moment, and then the altar slid away, revealing a set of stairs leading underground.

"Wait!" Tildre yelled, not wanting to be left aboveground to be eaten by those 'things'. She stumbled forward to the front of the chapel. The two other knights, ignoring her, began hurriedly down the stairs. The woman who had saved her life turned to her, and raised her pistol.

She stopped, scared and confused. "What are—"

"No civilians." The woman's voice echoed from her helmet as if it were amplified. She backed down the steps, keeping her sights locked on the frightened girl's chest, and placed her palm on a digital pad under the altar. "I'm sorry."

The altar slid closed in front of Tildre with a deep, resounding slam. She simply stared for a moment, too frightened to move, unable to comprehend the lack of compassion the knights had shown.

They had left her to die. Just like the rest of the survivors.

*****

Afterwards, Tildre had found her way back to her apartment, where she lived with her mother. The building was a horrible sight. It lay totally ruined, collapsed on itself during one of the tremors. There were no survivors.

For a month, Tildre had hidden in garbage cans, under cars, in rubble, wherever she could find that wasn't already taken by someone else to hide. Food was scarce. Within a week, almost all the stores had been vandalized and emptied of anything of nutritional value. When she was lucky, Tildre could find a bit of food in the trash, or maybe on the corpse of a not-so-lucky survivor.

At points, she thought Hell would have been preferable to the endless threat of death. Be it by starvation, demons, or other scavengers hoping to steal a bit of food or water. Eventually it no longer bothered her to watch from the shadows as her fellow man was ripped to shreds, only to sneak out when the coast was clear and take his belongings.

Survival makes you do horrible things.

She knew she would never be the same. And Tildre wanted to live. That's why she was now an apprentice, hoping to learn how to defend herself. She wasn't going to live long otherwise.

Her master stroked his short goatee, waiting patiently for his onyx-haired pupil to organize her thoughts.

Suddenly self-aware, Tildre blushed. "Sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," he responded. "You still have much to think about. Are you ready?"

She nodded. The past few days, Master (for he never gave his real name) had been showing Tildre the basics of kenjutsu. He had run the dojo to pay his bills before Konohagakure fell.

He wished it hadn't.

Master stood, grasping one of his bokutou, and handing the other wooden practice sword to his student.

Tildre stood and assumed the ready position.

*****

Almost two years passed under Master's tutelage. Tildre showed herself to be a strong pupil. She was driven, desperate to learn combat, so she could survive. There was no one to rely on anymore. The self-righteous knights had turned their backs on the surface, letting their fellow man be slaughtered.

The black-haired swordswoman was determined that would not happen to her.

Occasionally, they would venture above-ground (for Master had relocated his dojo in an underground pumping station, now abandoned, for safety) for food, water, and supplies. They had been lucky the first few months, being able to hide from the demons successfully, or not seeing them altogether.

However, about six months after they started living together, they were attacked. It was in a corner shop they had found which still had a decent amount of non-perishable food. Bodies littered the floor and blood covered the shelves and walls. It smelled awful. A demon must have ambushed a group of scavengers, Tildre thought. Judging from the ripe smell, it was only a week or so ago.

Master had given her a blade to keep on her person while they went above ground. They had also managed to salvage armor from the bodies of ANBU personnel that lay here or there on the streets. It wasn't much, but it made Tildre feel safer than in her clothes.

She pulled open a blood-drenched door to one of the freezers. With no power for six months, almost all of the frozen foods had rotten, but on occasion they would find bags of melted ice for fresh water, or food that was packaged well enough that it was still edible.

Tildre sighed. Empty. She shut the door, turned around and screamed.

A man was standing there. Or what Tildre thought was a man. His left eye had been punctured, leaving an empty socket and a trail of gore. His right eye was grey and focused upwards, unseeing. His hair was stringy, and had fallen out in patches. His mouth was agape, revealing a set of rotted gums and no tongue.

Tildre backed away, not knowing what to think. Then she looked down, and saw the man's entrails. They spilled out of his stomach and now dragged across the floor, dried, and crusted with blood. The man shuffled forward and let out a moan.

"Stay away!" she stammered, pulling out her blade and pointing it at the abomination's throat. It didn't listen. It raised an arm towards her.

"No!" she yelled, and thrust with all her might. The blade punctured the neck of the rotted being, halting its movement. Rotted bits of flesh dripped from the hole, and it collapsed, just as Master wheeled around the corner, shimmering katana in hand.

Tildre pulled the blade free and fell to her knees. Tears welled in her eyes. "What… what the fuck was that!?" she asked, hysterical.

Master stepped over the corpse and kneeled before her, placing a warm hand over hers.

"That," he said softly, "is the work of Hell."

*****

Tildre stood over her hard mattress in the Konohagakure underground beneath the church. She ran her fingers along her blade. It had been cleaned and lain out for her while she was unconscious. The sheath was made of finely polished mahogany, painted a jet black that reflected even the faintest light. The red cloth wrapped about the base, ratted and torn, had been replaced; and the intricately carved copper bust of a demonic face that capped the end now glinted in the dimly lit room.

Shinga. The name means "Fang of the Soul". Tildre never understood why the blade needed its own name, but her former mentor insisted upon its importance. She pulled the katana free from its scabbard and examined the steel. Tildre didn't like other people touching her sword, but she would admit she hadn't seen it this clean in a long time.

She felt a tension in her chest as she remembered. It was only two days ago that Master had died. The demons had somehow found their hideout and attacked suddenly and viciously. Tildre didn't know how they were found, and she didn't want to know, to be honest with herself. She had heard of some people working with the invaders, becoming slaves and even telling them where to find other humans to hunt. She hoped that wasn't the case.

Master had fended off the dog-like attackers, but was mortally wounded. Tildre had held his head in her lap as he accepted his fate. He had pressed the magnificent blade into her hands, saying only "Live."

In the long months they had stayed together, they had fought many demons. Tildre became accustomed to the more common types, fighting them back to back with Master. They were a good team. Were. Tildre almost felt he was family. He was the closest thing she had since her mother was dead.

Tildre had left the dojo then, knowing it no longer safe, grabbing her handgun and heading through the abandoned subway tunnels to the surface. She didn't know where she was going to go, but she was angry. Angry that she had nothing, again. She wanted vengeance. That's how she arrived at the station where she met Wes.

She traced a finger across the relief on Shinga's grip. It brought her comfort, though the visage was almost demonic in appearance itself. She heard the door behind her slide open. Tildre turned.

It was Wes. "High Lord Oda wants to talk to you," he stated plainly. He no longer carried his rifle, and he had removed his armor. He almost looked familiar now.

Tildre brushed her shoulder-length jet black hair out of her eyes with one hand, no longer matted and dirty, and pulled on her boots. She had a few words for the Shizoku son of a bitch.


End file.
